Early Morning Mischief with Alex Masters
by Eve-the-Charlotte
Summary: In which Scott is pranked bad by Alex at two in the morning and Bobby attempts to woo his teacher.  Just another early morning at the Xavier Institute.


_Early Morning Mischief with Alex Masters_ by _Eve-the-Charlotte_

Pairings: Brotherly Scott/Alex (no incest here!), some Hank/Bobby (can't resist!), and just a smidgen of Ray/Alex and Magneto/Xavier.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Summary: "I'm pregnant, Scott." "Wai-what. . . .You're WHAT!" In which brotherly bonding takes place in a very weird and inappropriate manner.

Warning: Um, fake m-preg? And some swearing involved as well.

$DancingInTheDark$

It was not common knowledge at the Xavier Institute that Scott Summers had below average blood pressure. In fact, it often seemed the opposite, but when you need three cups of coffee, _black_, with no pansy-ass cream and sugar, the condition would seem apparent. However, since Scott woke at five AM in the morning, _every_ morning, a time which waking would seem like cruel and unusual punishment to many denizens and frequent guests at the Institute. Even _Logan_ didn't start Danger Room sessions until six!

That being said, Scott, however, _would_ start Danger Room sessions at five in the morning, on a day where the New Recruits, a nickname that stuck even after the members weren't so new to the Xavier Institute anymore, were penciled in for training sessions. And Scott's training sessions were especially brutal, disregarding that the team had to wake up at _five in the __**fucking**__ morning_! Fortunately, the schedule was now arranged in such a way that no more than two early morning sessions were done in a row, thanks to Bobby nearly getting his head sliced off during the _fourth_ Danger Room session of the week, after which Scott nearly got _his_ head taken off by Dr. McCoy. "Thank God for inappropriate student-teacher feelings" was the New Recruits' relieved thoughts.

However, this training session or rather, _sessions_, were taking the cake for Worst Day of My Miserable Mutant Life for all the New Recruits. Scott had apparently gotten it into his head that he should test the maximum limits of everyone's powers. The results were not so nice. To make it brief, by the end of the dreary Tuesday morning, Rahne, Tabitha, and Ray were _beyond_ pissed, Sam, Jamie, Dani, and Bobby were dead on their feet, Jubilee and Roberto were near tears, Amara _was_ in tears, and Alex was plotting his revenge. _Oh, _his brother would pay all right, Alex thought with an evil grin plastered across his normally laid back features, and Scotty boy wouldn't know what hit him!

Revenge came a week later, at two in the morning, in the form of Alex and a small white stick in the pocket of his jeans. After a trip to the drugstore and having fun with food-dye, Alex was ready to strike. The blonde quickly and quietly snuck down the hall of the east wing and silently opened the door to Scott's room, revealing the devil himself. Alex resisted the urge to giggle at Scott's sleeping goggles and crawled up the bed, hovering over his brother's prone form before poking the auburn-haired man, _hard_, in the chest. Scott snorted in his sleep before turning to the side, since the bastard _of course_ slept on his back. Alex frowned petulantly before clamping his legs around Scott's sides and poking his older bro even harder this time. This time, when he couldn't move, Scott grimaced in his sleep before settling back down again in a slightly less peaceful sleep. Alex glared at his unconscious bro before pinching the irritating man's nostrils together. After a few seconds, Scott awoke with a gasp, oxygen deprivation winning over the urge to continue frolicking in the land of Nod. Scott was shocked to see his younger brother leaning over him, an impatient look covering his features. Scott intelligently went, "Whaaaaaaaaat" due to a yawn punctuating his speech.

"Scott," Alex whispered in a deadly serious tone, schooling his face into an apprehensive look, "I'm pregnant." As the blonde man stated this, he held out the seemingly positive pregnancy test.

Scott's brain, thanks to the low blood pressure mentioned at the beginning of this tale, was not working very well, as his following reaction proves quite well:

"Wai-what. . . .You're WHAT!" Scott looked horrified, like his worst nightmare had come to life. "Dr. McCoy," Scott shouted as he bounded out of the bed, dragging Alex behind him, along with the "positive" pregnancy test.

Now, while the aforementioned scene was taking place, a very different one was occurring in the kitchen of the Xavier Institute. Picture this: a beast-like man perching on top of a bar stool, eating a Twinkie whilst trying to explain how pheromones worked to an eager-looking brunet teenager sitting across from the first fellow, eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream straight out of the carton. The first person, Dr. Henry "Hank" McCoy, better known to the residents and semi-residents of the Institute as Beast, was happily going off to Science Land, one of the doctor's favorite places to go (other than Medical Land and, more worryingly to the animal-like scientist, Bobby Land). Even as he was swept away from reality, Hank McCoy couldn't help but note a few things, that A.) Bobby had insisted on having their tutoring sessions past midnight on a Tuesday, now Wednesday, B.) Bobby needed an in-depth explanation of pheromones, supposedly for a school science project, yet Hank knew that even for those with an average intelligence (Hank had surmised over his stay at Xavier's that the boy was of above-average intelligence and knew far more than he ever let on), the subject was relatively easy to grasp on one's own, and C.) Bobby was wearing only navy blue, satin-looking boxers to this tutoring session, which Hank found rather inappropriate dress to rendezvous with a teacher in (not if Beast had his way about the whole affair, no, _no_, bad thoughts, _bad thoughts_). Yes, DeNile is not just a river in Egypt, and Dr. McCoy was caught in the undertow.

Bobby, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. There was no school _project_, per se, but he had a test later on the subject, and he could always use as much information as possible on the test, even when the self-named "Iceman" already had the required knowledge base on the topic. As for his attire, _well_, Bobby could use all the help he could get to move his relationship with the blue-furred doctor in the _right direction_, if you got Bobby's meaning? Unfortunately, Hank, as Bobby liked to refer to his tutor in his head, was being vexingly oblivious to Bobby's _real_ purposes for the meeting. However, if Bobby wasn't mistaken, maybe Hank was playing hard to get, since he heard the man nearly choke on his spit when Bobby had _sashayed_ to get his ice cream. Hey, a man's got to do what a man's got to do, even if it means seductively licking at a spoon while listening to your soon-to-be man ramble on and on about scientific things, which Bobby didn't mind at all and instead drank in Hank's beautiful and utterly _sexy_ voice and bright, so-gorgeous-it-_hurt_ eyes.

However, no moment lasts forever, and Scott's screeching ruined theirs. As Hank jumped up to see what on earth Mr. Summers needed him so badly for, Bobby couldn't help the little sigh that escaped his now pouting lips. Oh well, at least Bobby could go and see what the whole racket was about. The next few moments were ones that Bobby remembered for the rest of his life. The entire scene went something like this:

"Oh thank God, Dr. McCoy, you're awake!"

"Yes, yes, I am, now what exactly is the meaning of you trying to wake the entire Institute at," pause, "two-fifteen in the morning?"

"Dr. McCoy, Alex is pregnant!"

". . . What?"

"No, seriously, he is! Alex, show Dr. McCoy the pregnancy test!"

". . . What in the world," pause for a deep sniff, "Food dye, really, Alex?"

"Food dye, what are you talking about, Alex is. . . . You are a dead man, little bro, a dead man!"

"Eep!"

A world-weary sigh before, "Bobby, would you like to continue our study session?"

This led back to the present, where Bobby answered, "Sure thing, Dr. McCoy," and the two walked back toward the kitchen. However, Alex was not finished yet, as the blonde had spotted the opportunity to at least do some good, according to Alex. This consisted of Alex casually grabbed Bobby's backside, whispered loudly, "If it weren't for Ray, I'd tap that," before gleefully running before it hit the odd couple what exactly Alex had just done. Too bad Masters wasn't quick enough to get completely out of range of Hank McCoy, Beast side coming out in full swing, who let out a feral growl before joining Scott in hunting down Alex Masters, who had lived up to his codename and spread havoc at the sleepy Xavier Institute. This left Bobby standing in his boxers both confused and mortified, if his cherry red cheeks were any indicator, asking the immortal question of, "What the hell just happened?"

Several hours later, at seven in the morning, Charles Francis Xavier sat at the desk in his office, rubbing his temples, looking very, _very_ unhappy to say the least. On the other side of the desk sat the four witnesses to the events that happened just a few hours beforehand. Scott finally got a pot of coffee in his system, allowing him the energy to glare hostilely at his younger brother. Said younger brother was grinning ear to ear, completely unrepentant. Dr. McCoy looked still a little feral, as both his insistence on separating Bobby and Alex _and_ his protective arm around Bobby's shoulders supported that theory. Bobby, on his part, looked very pleased at Dr. McCoy's actions and seemed to snuggle into the older man's furry arm. Professor Xavier mentally sighed as the events of two AM were recounted from the four different people, giving their reasons, more like _excuses_ to the bald man's ears, for their actions. Charles assigned Alex his punishment (four weeks of waxing the Blackbird and all Danger Room sessions were to be handled by Scott) and the professor had a talk with Hank about not letting students out of bed for non-necessities or non-emergency meetings after ten.

As the quartet filed out of the room, Charles Xavier sighed aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose to help relax. The man in the wheelchair rolled his chair towards the big bay windows, wishing to God that Erik was still here. His metal-bending lover (not ex, never ex) always gave him the strength and serenity he needed to run this madhouse of a school and deal with all of its early morning mischief.

$DancingInTheDark$

I hope you enjoyed it! Peace!


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